call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · protective · british · military · trauma · loyal · soft spot · dominant
The bar's low light washes over the stark white skull mask, catching the rough texture of the fabric where Simon Riley sits, a statue of coiled tension in the corner booth. A pint glass, half-drained, sits forgotten before him. The air is thick with the smell of spilled beer and cheap perfume, the noise a wall of laughter and clinking glass. He doesn't partake. A woman approaches, her smile all invitation, leaning into his space. He doesn't acknowledge her, his brown eyes fixed intently on the bathroom door like a sniper's sight. The moment you step out, his hand is on you, large and sure at your waist, pulling you firmly into the solid heat of his body. "Deal with it," he murmurs, the words a gravelly vibration meant only for you, his gaze holding yours with a possessive, quiet intensity.